


This is Not a Booty Call

by DeathValleyQueen



Series: Stranger Things Have Happened [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Implied Femslash, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pre-Relationship, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23887348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathValleyQueen/pseuds/DeathValleyQueen
Summary: Steve is woken in the middle of the night by a frantic Billy caring for a sick Max. Steve may hate Billy but he kinda likes Max, so he agrees to help out. What's the worst that could happen?
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: Stranger Things Have Happened [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1721638
Comments: 2
Kudos: 93





	This is Not a Booty Call

Steve wakes in fits and bursts, his body rejecting consciousness this early in the morning. For several, drawn out moments, he is unaware of what woke him. Finally, his ears catch the ring of the phone next to his bed.

Steve sits up, his sleep-blurred vision making out the time on the clock. With a huff, he answers the phone. “Henderson, I swear to god, if this is about your fucking D&D game I’m going to murder you and then toss your dice in the river.”

“She's got a fever and I don’t know what to do!”

The voice on the other end is not Dustin’s. It is unfamiliar to Steve’s half-awake mind. “What?” He asks before adding a more productive, “Who is this?” at the end. 

“Max woke up with a fever and I can’t find any fucking medicine in this house and my dad is out of town and I don’t know what to do.”

“Billy?”

It is a stupid question, and later, he will blame it on the early hour. Why the fuck is Billy Hargrove calling him about his sick sister? Part of him, the tired part that had a long closing shift yesterday and another long shift ahead of him, wants to tell Billy to call someone who is an actual friend. But Steve’s seen how close El and Max are. He suspects, but cannot yet confirm, that their friendship is maybe a little more than what they let on. 

Not that Steve would judge. Just because he’s only told Robin that he maybe likes boys as much as he likes girls doesn’t mean he has worked up the nerve to tell anyone or hit on a single guy. So he understands that Max and El are maybe Max AND El, but he would never dream of mentioning it before they’re ready.

Robin would probably kill him if he did anyway.

Steve blinks, realizing suddenly that Billy is still ranting. There is real fear in his voice, the worry over Max evident in the way he doesn’t come up for air between sentences. Dustin had said that Billy seemed to have calmed down around Max and the rest of them. Steve hadn’t really believed that until this moment.

“Will you come over? Please, Steve, I don’t know who else to call.”

Huh. Billy uses Steve’s name so sparingly that it jars him a little to hear it now. With a heavy sigh, Steve moves to get up and out of bed. “Alright, alright, calm your tits. I’ll be over there in a few, let me just put pants on.”

Steve ends up skipping his usual hair routine, settling for a ball cap instead with the hopes that no one he cares to look good for will see him at this godforsaken time of day. He raids the medicine cabinet, skipping his mom’s sleeping pills and his dad’s pain medication he definitely doesn’t need anymore. There, hidden behind prescriptions, Steve finds what he’s looking for. He confirms it hasn't expired before tucking it into his back pocket, grabbing his keys, and heading out the door.

By the time he arrives at the Hargrove place Steve is slightly more awake but also more pissed off. He doesn’t understand why Billy called him. He is aware of the tension between them, though never what caused it. From his perspective, Billy rolled into town like a goddamn steamroller, intent on tearing down the foundations of Steve’s life.

Which is, frankly, bullshit. Steve never did anything to Billy until that night at the Byers’ place. Ever since Billy saw him at the party, it feels like he’s been hunting Steve. The last year of high school had felt like being in the woods, aware of the sight of a rifle on you but finding no where to hide. It had gotten better after graduation only because they no longer ran into each other in the halls. Now their interactions were limited to the pool where Steve often brought Dustin and the other rugrats or when Billy was dropping Max off at the mall or the Wheeler’s place for game night. 

Yet every time they see each other, Steve gets that same sinking, shivering sensation of being caught in Billy’s crossheirs. He never actually catches Billy staring, but he feels it. It sets Steve’s teeth on edge, kicks in his fight or flight response.

So yes, he is fucking angry that Billy has the nerve to call him into this. Steve resolves not to let it show. He can’t let Billy see how under Steve’s skin Billy is. 

The door is opening before Steve even has a chance to knock, and there is Billy. He looks harried, his hair sticking out unflatteringly where he’s combed fingers through it again and again. The relief that washes over his face at the sight of Steve is staggering.

Steve has a moment where all the usual unsettling emotions that Billy brings simply vanish. This is a different Billy, a Billy without the barbed wire fence around him.

“Thank god,” Billy says, stepping aside and ushering Steve in. “She’s in her bedroom.” Billy shuts the door behind them and then quickly hurries Steve down the hall.

Max is lying on her bed, looking pale and gaunt. There’s a bucket next to the bed along with a glass of water on the side table. She looks up when Steve walks in. “Hey, Steve,” she says weakly. 

“Hey, red.” Steve reaches down, pressing the back of his hand to Max’s forehead.She is warm but not baking. Her skin is clammy but not yet sweaty. The fever hasn’t broken but it isn’t strong. Steve releases some tension he wasn’t aware of carrying. “A little sick, huh?”

“Yeah, I don’t feel great.” She looks behind Steve at Billy, standing nervously in the door. “I told him I’d be ok but…” She lowers her voice, apparently trying to whisper but failing. “I think he’s worried about me.”

“I think so, too.” He gives Max a little wink before pulling the bottle of medicine out of his pocket. “Alright, here is the deal. You take this gross medication and when your fever breaks I’ll get you a free scoop from Scoops Ahoy.”

“Even the double chocolate fudge brownie?”

“Only if you don’t tell my manager. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Steve portions out some of the godawful smelling medicine into a spoon, lifting it to Max’s lips. 

She swallows the whole thing and makes a face. “That’s vile,” she complains.

“It certainly is. Here, swallow some water to get the taste out. Good. I’m going to stick around for a few hours, see if we can’t get your fever to break. I’ll be just in the other room if you need me. Got it?”

“Got it. Thanks, Steve.”

“No problem, red.” He tucks her in, leaving the bottle of medicine on her bedside table. She’s already half asleep by the time he turns off the light and closes the door. 

Billy still looks anxious as Steve closes the door.

“She’ll be ok,” Steve assures him. “The fever isn’t that high, It’s probably just a cold. If the fever doesn’t break before it’s time for her next dose, we can call a doctor.”

With a great sigh, Billy deflates. “I don’t have money for a doctor.”

“I mean, I’m sure your folks can pay once they’re back in town?” Steve is guessing here, because no way would Billy be trying to handle this on his own if the parents were somewhere in the house.

Billy shakes his head. “I don’t want my dad to know about this. If he thinks I wasn’t taking care of her, he’d…” Billy trails off, looking at the wall as if he held some terrible secret. “I’d just like to get her better before they get back in a few days.”

“Well, like I said, man, I think she’ll be fine. But I’ll stick around and make sure if you want.”

“Yeah?” At last, Billy’s shoulders sag in relief. “Thanks, Steve.”

“Yeah.” They stand there, awkwardness folding in around them. “Is there, like, somewhere I can hang out or...?”

“Oh.” Billy looks surprised, as if he hadn’t fully processed that Steve was, indeed, staying here for the time being. “Yeah, yeah.”

They head into the living room with its worn down sofas and TV. Steve sits down nearest the hall door, the orange fabric of the couch itchy against his skin. He notices more than a few stains even in the low lighting. Here and there he sees holes show the stuffing from the cushions. 

It only now occurs to Steve that Billy and Max are poor. Or at least poor by Hawkins’ standards. He’d only ever seen the outside of the house, but he’d never connected the outside to the inside. Steve knows a few poor folks around here. Ok, no, he knows one other set of poor folks, and the Byers are alright in his book, poor or no. For some reason, the absolutely obvious poverty of this place doesn’t hold the careful love that the Byers’ house does. There, each torn thread would have been painstakingly mended, the stains tirelessly cleaned. That house, ramshackle though it may be, is a home. 

This place isn’t a home. This is just a place people live.

Steve has moments to let all of this flood his mind before he recognizes that Billy has asked him a question. “Sorry, what?”

“You want a beer or something?” Billy asks, clearly repeating himself.

“Oh. Yeah, beer’s good.”

Billy gets up and walks into the kitchen. Alone, Steve feels even more uneasy. The longer he sits in this house, the less he understands how Max ended up the sweet kid she is. Steve’s seen her in a corner, and she’s tough as nails. But her nature bends towards kindness. How is it Billy’s has bent so extremely the other direction? Who is Billy, really? Steve had seen real worry on Billy’s face tonight.

A blink of an eye, and Billy is back, offering Steve a can of cold, cheap beer. They sit across from each other, opening their cans, taking long drags, and neither saying a word. 

Finally, Steve can’t stand to sit here and not fucking talk about this.

“Why did you call me, Billy? I mean, I know that Tommy is shit in situations like this but isn’t there some girlfriend who would more than love to play house with you and your sick kid sister?” Because this is the meat of the problem as Steve sees it. There is no reason this had to be his ass here, sitting awkwardly across from a guy who has spent every waking moment making Steve’s life worse. It cannot be that there was no one else, even the worst people have someone. “Why me?”

Billy doesn’t answer for so long that Steve begins to believe he won’t receive an answer. Billy sips from his beer and looks down at his rough hands.

Steve sighs, shaking his head, looking away in disappointment. He isn’t sure why he expected a straight answer out of Billy.

“She likes you,” Billy says. Steve’s gaze snaps back to him but Billy’s eyes remain fixed on his beercan. “She’s always talking about how cool you are. Guess there is no accounting for taste, right?” Steve huffs, a sound half annoyance half laugh. “She fucking hates Tommy. Which is fair, I hate Tommy, too, most of the time. She was sick, and I got scared and I don’t trust anyone in this town not to use this against me somehow. But Max keeps telling me I should try and get to know you. So I thought… there was a chance you wouldn’t use this against me. That’d you’d be cool enough to help me despite, ya know, our history.”

Huh. It isn’t exactly what Steve had expected, but then again, he isn’t sure what it was he expected in the first place. His mind snags on one thread, a single sentence Billy used. “Why is Max always telling you to get to know me?” Because it’s strange. Max is a cool enough kid. Steve likes her, likes how El seems to have blossomed around her. He likes her jokes and her skateboard and the fact that she can and will kick someone’s ass. All of that recommends her. But why would she be trying to push him on her brother?

“She says I need good friends. Not just hangers on who only like me when I’m an asshole.”

“There are moments in the day when you’re not an asshole?” Steve sees Billy wince, instantly regretting his words. “That’s not fair, man.” He sighs, rubbing one hand against his thigh. “I mean, you have pretty much been a massive asshole to me ever since you came into town. But seeing you worry over Max… I don’t know, man, it’s not something someone who is only ever a dick would do.”

They lapse back into silence, each silently drinking. What is going on in Billy’s head Steve can only guess. He is no closer to unwrapping the mysteries of Billy Hargrove than he was when he woke up two hours ago.

“Tommy is a dick, though.” Steve says when he can’t bear the silence anymore. “Max has a very good point there.”

“Yeah. Fuck Tommy.”

And then they laugh. It’s unsettling only because it isn’t unsettling. Steve finds he likes Billy’s smile, his laugh, when it isn’t being used as a brick thrown through the glass walls of Steve’s life. “Did you ever hear the story of that time he tried to sneak into the girls’ locker room before a basketball game?”

Billy snorts out a laugh. “No, but I can only imagine it went terribly.”

Then they are sharing stories. First about Tommy being a dumbass. Then Steve is talking about his shitty job. Billy confesses that the moms at the pool regularly hit on him and how it kind of makes him feel gross. (“I mean they wink at me like their kid isn’t peeing in the pool three feet away from me.”)

Before Steve realizes it two hours have passed.

He goes to check on Max. He finds her sleeping soundly, a sweat having broken out over her forehead. He returns to the hall where Billy waits. Steve notes there is still that anxious energy, the fear that something is deeply wrong with Max.

“She’s good,” Steve tells him. “Fever broke, and she’s resting well. She’ll feel loads better tomorrow. You got soup or juice or something?”

Billy nods. “Yeah, I got some. I can head to the store later, too. Get her some of those ice pops she loves. That’ll put her in a good mood.”

Steve finds himself smiling. He quickly covers his mouth and pushes it away. Here in the hall, that smiles feels too intimate. Nevermind they were laughing in the living room minutes ago. Billy is closer and is looking at Steve with something Steve can’t name, doesn’t want to name. This thing, whatever it is, feels fragile. Steve doesn’t want it to break, afraid of getting cut all to ribbons on it.

“If she gets worse again, just call me, ok? I’ll be at Scoops most of the day, but Robin owes me a favor so she can cover.”

“Sure, yeah.” Billy starts and stops a sentence a few times before he finally speaks his mind. “You and Robin. You two…”

Steve lets out a bark of laughter. “No, no, no, no, no. I’m not, uh, I’m not really Robin’s type.” He doesn’t think Robin would like him spilling her business or he’d explain.

“How is it possible for someone to look at you and not think you are their type?”

Steve blinks. Billy blinks. The fragile thing between them gains a little weight, carrying Steve’ stomach down with it. “Well,” Steve shuffles his feet. “There’s no accounting for taste, right?”

Billy thanks him at the door. Steve drives home, hoping to get a few more hours of precious sleep before his shift.

Lying in bed, he replays the early hours of the morning, trying to come to terms with what happened in the Hargrove house. Something feels like it’s changing, some unspoken thing.

When he dreams that night, the scent of cheap beer and cigarette smoke fills his mind.


End file.
